STOP
by Kimberly Green
Summary: Following the 'phone call' Sherlock convinces Molly that despite his feelings for her he will be incapable of making her happy as he doesn't have the usual needs or emotional sensitivities of a normal man so they should remain friends. Molly sensibly bides her time until Sherlock comes to realise that he is indeed a 'real boy'.


'STOP!'

Aware that this had come out a little louder and a little more insistently than he intended – Sherlock followed his somewhat startled request with a gentle touch to the head of the brunette who was stretched across the lower half of the bed above him – his now rapidly deflating penis still between the fingers of her left hand.

Releasing him softly – her head raised slowly, casting him a sheepish glance as his fingers slowly slid away from her hair to rest on the bedcovers beside her. Bringing her hands up to come together under her chin – she rested herself lightly on his stomach, the grin spreading more widely across her face as she studied him.

'Just…. Don't, ok…. There is absolutely no need to respond to my outburst with anything other than silence right now… if you don't mind'

He closed his eyes as he finished his request, releasing a large sigh before slowly glancing just out of the corner of one eye back down at her.

He sighed - 'You are not going to just let this go are you?' - he raised his eyes to the heavily corniced ceiling as he tucked his hands behind his own head and once again sighed in heavy resignation.

'Mr. William, Sherlock, Scott Homes – you walk into this room for the first time in over two years, totally sober, totally calm – neither of which have ever happened before in our long acquaintance. You request a service which you have requested many a time, for which you pay handsomely as usual, and which I am of course keeping by the way'

she grinned at this, to be met with a snort of sorts from her companion,

'Yet at the last minute decide you no longer wish to avail yourself of my services. Of course I am not going to let this go – I have questions …'

The grin she was giving him became even wider and more mischievous, so much so that she soon found herself forced to roll rather desperately to the side to avoid being lunched onto the very expensive carpet by the side of the large bed as Sherlock grabbed as much sheet as he could to cover himself defensively whilst he glowered down at her.

As they stared at each other for what seemed like an age, she held her nerve until she felt him deflate somewhat and release the tension he was holding and rub his face into his hands with what seemed like quite a desperate sigh.

'Get on with it then you harpy, deduce away'.

He allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips as he returned an arm across his forehead in a display of frustration that she had never seen in all the years she had been party to her business arrangement with the detective.

Grasping her own corner of the expensive sheets she covered herself enough to sit up by his left thigh, getting comfortable as if she intended to be here for some time – which did not escape the attention of her companion who merely muttered under his breath his displeasure at this turn of events.

'So. The great detective is having second thoughts about his actions tonight, you called me at 7:00pm and yet you didn't arrive until 8:30pm – how many times did you attempt to abort this appointment and then change your mind?'

'Perhaps you should be the one who takes on the detective work Ms. Polson'

He smiled slightly as he said this, letting his hand finally fall to meet the other on his stomach so he could observe her carefully.

She merely stared back at him, patiently waiting for his answer – refusing to be baited.

'Fine. I changed cabs twice and actually got out at Harrods and did a complete circuit of their ground floor before walking the last two streets to finally get here – satisfied !'

'Why are you here neither high as a kite, nor high on adrenalin from solving a case Mr. Detective, as is your usual "MO"'

'That would be because I no longer imbibe illegal addictive substances, nor have had a case in the last 2 days, although I would kill for either a cigarette or a line of coke right about now'

He glowered at her at this admission but was still met with a slight smile as she once again held her nerve.

'So what prompted the visit then Mr. Holmes – you needed it – but not for the usual reasons. I had not seen you in so long I assumed you had found yourself a good woman to see to your urges when you could no longer tap them down into that big brain of yours ….. oh wait a minute – you have havn't you …'

Her grin was positively Cheshire cat sized now as she taunted him.

'Oh my god Sherlock Holmes likes a girl, but dare not tell her !' She threw her head back to actually laugh, but quickly calmed down as she saw a glimpse of his pained expression seep through his attempted cool exterior as he looked at her.

On instinct she reached out to lace her fingers through his and was surprised to find that instead of pulling away as she expected he clung almost desperately to her hand, applying his own pressure as if she were a small lifeline he would allow himself.

His eyes fell as she watched him try and compose himself.

'I thought if I came to see you it would make these thoughts, these urges go away and I could carry on just being her friend, like we agreed. But instead all that happened is these stupid human feelings of shame, and guilt popped into my head and I couldn't stop those either – what the hell is going on Elsa – my brain isn't working as it should'

He looked quite desperate now as he clung to her, almost frightened – which was not a look she was used to seeing in the eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

She reached out gently with her right hand to cup his face.

'Oh you stupid man – you want this woman, not me, you are already invested emotionally with her and for some reason you wont do the same physically – for a genius you can be really thick sometimes'

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them to gently look at her.

'So – as a professional what on earth should I do now, not only have I been keeping her at arms length, pretending its for the best, I am now also visiting prostitutes to satisfy my lustful cravings for the poor woman – cant see that going down very well.'

With that exasperated declaration Sherlock once more covered his eyes with his left arm, no longer able to even think straight.

'You may be surprised Sherlock – does she love you'

'She has always loved me even when I didn't deserve it and tried my best to make her think it was the most stupid idea in the world to carry on doing so – she too is an idiot !'

He grinned sheepishly now, his face suddenly appearing lighter.

'Then go confess for gods sake – give her a chance to decide for herself if you are worth it – Oh and I still expect a tip !'

She grinned widely now, giving his hand another squeeze.

Little under an hour later Molly Hooper was just adding her sleeveless gloves onto her fingers as she opened the latch on her front door.

She was expecting her somewhat dour communal hallway to be empty at this time of night, she wasn't expecting to almost step on top of a somewhat disheveled consulting detective who was currently sat on the floor just outside her door, gently banging the back of his head against the wall whilst he muttered quietly to himself.

'Sherlock ? What on earth are you doing ?'

His head stilled immediately and he sheepishly turned to look at her, obviously startled by her sudden appearance. He made no attempt to get up, he merely slumped his shoulders and decided to lower his eyes to the floor for a few seconds.

Molly waited quietly, used to odd displays from her friend (who was she kidding), and watched as he seemed to finally make a decision and push himself up from the floor to stand in front of her, coat open, his shirt clearly buttoned against the wrong button holes as there was a spare button flapping unevenly below his jacket, his hair 'flustered' as her mother used to say.

'Molly – I didn't hear you open the door, are you well ?' His smile appeared confident but she could just see the 'tell' as it twitched at the edges.

Scanning him quickly, as she often had to do when he appeared at odd hours of the night unannounced, for any injuries or signs of drugs, Molly moved slightly to lean against the left side of her doorway as she came to the conclusion that he appeared unharmed, but definitely 'ruffled' both physically and mentally.

'So what gives then, why is the normally best dressed man this side of Kensington slumped in my hallway apparently unhurt but looking like he may have dressed himself in 30 seconds flat whilst drunk !'

Sherlock immediately rolled his eyes as he glanced down to survey the state of his shirt, his hand also instinctively moving up to smooth his hair in a late attempt to rectify his appearance – but quickly gave up attempting to correct either when it was very clearly pointless.

'I have been informed that honesty is the best policy is pathetic situations like this'

He cleared his throat before starting his next sentence, clenching his right fist subconsciously as he began speaking again.

'So, Molly Hooper the reason why I look in such a state is that I did in fact get dressed in a little over 30 seconds flat as I had to rush from my last situation when I realized it was in incorrectly chosen one, to come here and explain what stupid thing I had been about to do and why, and hope you can forgive me.'

Molly saw him clench his fist just a little tighter as he ended this statement and she instinctively reached out and gently clasped his tight fist – her fingers stroking the back of his hand whilst he watched her move her fingers, until she felt him begin to relax and unclench his grip and find her fingers in his own.

'Where were you Sherlock, what's wrong?'

'I know we agreed to put the phone call behind us and carry on as friends because I would be a horrendous boyfriend and would only continually break your heart and I would be unable to give you what you needed emotionally or physically, but it turns out that all that has happened is I crave you Molly, all of you. I am walking round like a teenager on heat and nothing I can do is getting rid of it. So I did what I used to do in the past when I couldn't get rid of such baser urges and I visited a professional, that I have often visited in the past when the need arises'

At the realization of what he was actually saying at this point, to the detective's utter shock a grin slowly began to appear on Molly Hooper's face.

'And what happened when you got there Sherlock?' Her voice was calm and collected, not at all the response he had expected.

'I was wracked with guilt and self loathing and had to stop things before they had even begun, to the extreme amusement it has to be said of someone who is supposed to be a professional I have to say. Molly, please forgive me but I realized I don't want to be your friend, I just want you, all of you, in every way you want and probably some you cant imagine right now, but are part of my base little fantasies, and I think you have the right to know that before you decide if you even want to speak to me again, and I will fully understand if you don't'

Although he dropped his eyes again, he did not for one-second lesson the grip he had on her hand, if anything he tightened it as if willing her not to let him go.

The force of Molly Hooper's sweet little laugh caught him completely off guard. She in fact did drop his hand, as she had to clutch her sides as laughter followed by the giggles wracked her small frame.

As she slowly calmed herself she wiped tears that had appeared from her eyes and finally stood up straight before him – reaching out to once again take his right hand – this time in both of hers.

'You stupid man – you have been making cow eyes at me for weeks, brushing past me in the lab, touching my finger 'by accident' when you pass me an instrument or get me coffee, did you think I didn't notice. I had just decided that you needed to decide for yourself that this is what you wanted, so I think we are there don't you.'

His mouth was hung open slightly as he tightened his own fingers once more around those of his pathologist.

'So, you wanna come in Mr. Detective and see what you have been missing all these years, before you talk yourself out of it?'

Her smile was warm and welcoming now as she quietly looked him straight in the eye.

His mouth was too dry to speak at this point, instead he exhaled a steady breath in relief, unaware that he had been holding it in for far longer that was comfortable for efficient respiration, slowly nodding his head as a smile finally crept onto his face.

She cheekily glanced back at him, giving him a warm grin, as he let her lead him quietly back into the flat.


End file.
